


Secretiveness

by Nurisiliel



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Destiny, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Sex, F/M, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Meditation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Pen Pals, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sabbatical, Sightseeing, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27154399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nurisiliel/pseuds/Nurisiliel
Summary: It should have been a very relaxed sabbatical – finally visiting an old friend for the first time, meditating in nature and traveling a bit... But Johanna quickly realizes that she has contacts with an organization that does quite a bit illegal business in the city of the Statue of Liberty. And so instead of meditating on God, she will probably inevitably encounter the Devil...
Relationships: Franklin "Foggy" Nelson/Marci Stahl, Matt Murdock/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 35
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This is my first trip into the world of one of my favorite superhero shows. All local conditions have been researched to the best of my knowledge, but unfortunately, I have never been to NY, let alone Hell's Kitchen. Therefore I apologize in advance for any inconsistencies and hope that reading my story will still be fun. And let's face it, it wouldn't be much fun without a bit of fiction, would it?
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Daredevil or any character which you may recognize from the show or comics. They belong to their righteous owners. However, everything else is my own creation.

**Prologue**

**– Arrival –**

Taking a deep breath, Johanna Lorenz leaned against the backrest of the cab and looked out of the window. It was a very nice view and she decided to come back to the Brooklyn Bridge in the next few days, from where she could see the Statue of Liberty. It was said the view was especially beautiful at sunrise, and since she was an early riser anyway, she would look up the times when the black sky would brighten and turn the night into day. Grinning, she also made a mental note to come back there at sunset. The scenery had to look even more spectacular against a blood-red sky. But first things first...

With an almost excited tingling in her stomach, she finally made it to Manhattan thanks to the cab and followed exactly with her eyes the route the driver took. Although she knew that she would never be able to remember all the buildings, prominent street corners and street signs by just one drive by, it was a very good memory exercise. And so she took in as many details as possible on the way to her accommodation.

"First time in New York?" the cab driver asked her at that moment and Johanna saw that he was watching her through the rearview mirror.

"Hmm. Who wants to know? Because you see, I don't like talking to strangers. My lawyer has strongly advised me against it..." She smiled at his reflection and got a quick laugh from him.

"I wouldn't recommend that in this town either, Miss. My name is Joseph Caden, Miss, and if you don't mind me asking, what exactly brings you to this city?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Johanna noticed that they were just passing by a park, but her eyes were resting on her driver. She didn't know him, but he made a relaxed and completely fatherly impression on her. Involuntarily, her lips curled into another smile.

"I'm Johanna and yes, this is my first time here in New York. I've made a bet with a friend quite a long time ago and today I plan to win it."

"That sounds mysterious. But I hope it's nothing illegal what you're planning?"

"Uhm... not really. At least not if he really has as much sense of humor as I think he does. Why do you ask, Mr. Caden?"

"Well, the address you gave me, Miss Johanna, is in Hell's Kitchen, and that's where the Devil comes to check on things that are wrong and illegal."

"The devil?"

"Oh yes, Miss. The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. You know, he's kind of like the Avengers. Only in smaller. Not meaning that he's short in stature. I can't judge that, in the few photos on the news he looks normally built. But you know, the Avengers are probably out and about a lot, and the Devil is someone you have seen every night for quite some time now and he's keeping law and order here."

"Oh?"

"Oh, yeah. If you're ever in trouble at night, and I imagine that will happen, because you're young, Miss Johanna, and it's your right to go out and hit the clubs and bars-"

Stunned by so much understanding from him for her mostly party-raving generation, she looked at him with raised eyebrows and laughed softly.

"-that's what we did then, too. But times are different today. You see, you are a pretty young lady, Miss Johanna. My grandson William would surely take a liking to you and would be happy to show you around town. He just turned 25 and-"

"Are you trying to set me up, Mr. Caden? I am shocked!" Johanna laughed heartily and shook her head. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not here to hook up with an American boyfriend. That would be quite unfair, because I won't be here for more than a year. At least that's the plan."

"Ah, such a shame. He's a good boy, you know? But nevertheless, what I wanted to say is that if you have some trouble at night, make sure to call out to him. The Devil, you know? People say that if you call for him, he hears and comes to you."

With a nod she looked out the window to her left again and could now see the Hudson, whose water behind the piers seemed to glow because of the sun.

"Thanks for the advice. Do you live in Hell's Kitchen, Mr. Caden?"

"No, no. My family has lived in Harlem for several generations. When I get you to your destination, Miss Johanna, I'll give you a card from me. It'll have my phone number on it. If you get bored in Hell's Kitchen, call me and I'd be happy to show you around my neighborhood."

"You or your grandson?" Smirking, she took her eyes off the water when the cab turned away from the riverside and saw a mischievous glow in her driver's eyes through the rearview mirror.

"You got me." The man laughed loud and then named a few bars she should avoid after nightfall.

Much too quickly, they finally reached Johanna's destination and Joseph Caden skillfully steered the cab into a parking space. She would have liked to talk to him longer, but she still had a tight schedule for today she had to keep to. And so she thanked him from the bottom of her heart for the nice conversation and paid for her ride with a generous tip. He still helped her to lift her big suitcase out of the trunk and said goodbye with a firm handshake.

Smiling, Johanna looked after him as he steered his cab back into traffic and put the promised card with his phone number in her handbag. Then, full of energy, she turned around and pulled her suitcase on the rollers behind her towards the entrance of the rented apartment.

She was glad that she didn't have to stay in a hotel. As soon as she entered the apartment, she felt the warm flair that she could only have guessed at from the photos. With a contented sigh, she closed the door behind her and took off her shoes after a quick glance at her watch. Yes, she still had time to freshen up and eat a little something to calm her stomach, which was just about to make itself felt with a soft growl…

About an hour later, she was on the road again. This time with lighter luggage but an equally clear destination in mind. However, the way there turned out to be a little more difficult than she had expected. Because if there was one thing she was absolutely not good at, it was reading maps!

"Oh come on." She shook the road map in her hands in frustration as if that would do any good. "That can't be that hard, honestly! It's all madly parallel here, not like in some German cities!"

But seeing something on a map and then standing in the middle of it had always been difficult for her.

"I swear, when the Avengers or whoever develops a superhero serum for us normal people, I want spatial awareness! Verdammter shit!"

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that a young mother looked at her in horror and quickly pulled her son away from her while passing by.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry, I'll stick with _Scheibenkleister_. At least then I can swear to my heart's content..." she muttered resignedly and decided to simply ask the next best passer-by for directions.

And she was really lucky – only twenty minutes later, thanks to a talkative elderly lady, she was finally standing in front of the entrance of the building where the sign of the law firm looked really good against the red background of the column to which it was attached.

"I'm proud of you, big brother," she smiled as she followed the engraving of the names with her fingertips. Then she entered the office building and thanks to his description, she quickly found the right office. After listening for a few moments, Johanna was pleased to discover that, as she had expected, the office was abandoned and closed. The court date had therefore not been postponed. This meant that she had a little time left before they would come back and she happily set herself to work...


	2. Chapter 2

**– Intrusion alarm –**

"Oh man, I'm so done today!" Sighing, Foggy tried to loosen his tie with tired fingers.

Next to him he heard Karen's shoes clacking on the sidewalk and Matt's agreeing grunt.

"Yeah, Ellis was one tough guy."

"Oh, come on, Matt," Karen threw in with an indignant tone. "He didn't stand a chance against you two. Sometimes I feel it's your superpower to convince the jury of our clients' cases."

At her words, Foggy involuntarily looked at Matt, but he just smiled slightly and walked on unperturbed. So he guessed there was no need to worry that Karen had found out anything so far. And that concern was quite justified, Foggy thought. Karen really was an extraordinary woman with a gift for intuitively getting on the right track when she got stuck with a story. She only had to suspect once that Matt's injuries were even remotely similar to Daredevil's, and she would draw the right conclusions in no time...

Foggy basically wished that Matt would just tell Karen. Because if he was allergic to anything, it was to lie to his friends! But since he counted both Karen and Matt among his friends, he found himself in a classic predicament. A few months had passed since Foggy had found out the big secret by accident and he had had enough time to get over the negative feelings he had felt towards Matt after they had spoken out. But basically, he would only have shot himself in the foot if he had given up their long-standing and deep friendship. Because no matter how he turned it around in his mind, they were besties – trusting and caring for each other. And just as he would never let his brother Theo down, he would always stand behind Matt. That had become clear to Foggy in the last months and if he was honest, it had brought them both even closer. And what could he say, Matt would be lost without him! After all, it was always Foggy who came up with any believable stories to cover Matt's absence, recent injury, or grumpy behavior when the bad guys got away from him. Thank God this happened very rarely, because even Foggy didn't want to meet a grumpy Matt in the dark. He didn't even want to know how many punching bags Fogwell's Gym had already lost because Matt had to let off steam.

With a sigh he concentrated again on the sidewalk in front of him and realized that they were only a few steps away from their office building. At the same time he felt two pairs of eyes resting on him and locked his eyes with Karen, who gave him an amused look.

"Earth to Foggy..."

"Is he with us again, Karen?"

"Hmm, so it seems."

Embarrassed, Foggy cleared his throat and held the front door open for his two friends. "Can't a man just hang on to his thoughts? Have I missed something?"

"Karen asked what superpowers we'd want if we could choose one."

"Oh?" Thoughtfully, he stepped into the elevator with the other two. But his brain was apparently unable to think about such topics adequately after this exhausting day in court. So when they reached their floor and left the elevator, he turned to Matt.

"What powers would you want, buddy?"

"Ah, I pass on that question."

"Yes, he refuses to answer, not wanting to think hypothetically about what kind of hero he'd be."

"Come on, Karen, unlike you, I've never seen what the Avengers are capable of. How am I supposed to choose between flying or augmented strength if I can't compare visually?"

"Yeah, because you're totally incapable of imagining... Well, you don't have that excuse, Foggy. So, what would you choose?"

"Oh, dear... can I sleep over it? In the meantime, Miss Page, you can tell us what you'd choose."

As the three of them slowly walked down the corridor, Karen lowered her head and seemed to think seriously about it. This wasn't the first time, apparently, because not ten seconds later, she muttered her answer almost incomprehensibly.

"The ability to time travel."

Foggy was about to ask a question to make sure he hadn't misheard, because honestly he didn't believe that this superpower existed, but then it ran down his spine coldly when he saw that their office door was slightly open! Matt and Karen apparently hadn't noticed it yet and so he quickly held Karen by her arm and whispered panicky, "Matt."

This made his friend pause and Foggy saw that he automatically tilted his head to listen into the office.

"Shit!" Karen cursed quietly in the meanwhile and froze. "Should we call the police?"

"I don't think there's anyone else in there. It's all quiet," Matt reassured Karen, and Foggy also felt a strong sense of relief at these words. He really didn't need dealing with a burglar today. Before Karen could object that Matt couldn't know it for sure, Foggy also confirmed that he didn't hear anything from within the office and took a determined step to the door and opened it carefully, pushing it open with his foot so as not to destroy any traces from the break in. Who knew what the thief or thieves had stolen. Surely they would call the police later.

Slowly he entered their premises and looked around attentively, his eyes wide and senses awake again thanks to the adrenaline. But at first glance it didn't look like anything was missing. Neither were the filing cabinets open, nor was a pen lying untidy on Karen's desk. But he was surprised that her laptop looked just as untouched. Had the potential burglar been disturbed by someone else and hadn't even had a chance to look around the rooms? Behind him, Foggy heard Matt and Karen slowly approaching him.

"What is it, Foggy? Is anything missing?"

"Not at first glance... Karen, can you check Matt's office, please? I'll check my own."

"Okay," she agreed and entered said office without hesitation. If he hadn't heard the slightly anxious undertone in her voice, Foggy would have assumed that she was completely unimpressed by the situation.

Then he looked at Matt and noticed that he still wore the same strained and thoughtful-alert expression on his face as when he had listened for the telltale sounds of the burglar out in the hallway.

"Can you pick up anything?" Whispering, he was about to open the door to his office, but his friend suddenly held him back by grabbing his elbow.

"Whoever it was," Matt said quietly and quickly, "looked around everywhere but without touching something. The smell is only vague, but I'm almost certain it was a woman. It's hard to grasp, it must have been some time ago when she was here, but here and there is a slightly sweet note in the air. It seems to be stronger in your office though, so touch the handle with a handkerchief to avoid covering any fingerprints."

"Okay. Thanks, buddy."

With his heart pounding nervously, he opened his office door with a handkerchief and let his gaze slide from left to right over everything as he stepped inside. Matt also stepped through the door behind him and seemed to explore the room again in his own unique way. After less than ten seconds his friend nodded in the direction of his desk and Foggy swallowed heavily. But he couldn't find anything noticeable there. His laptop was also in place and the files lay neatly where he had put them.

"Wait..." he whispered and squinted.

"What is it?"

With quick steps, Foggy first went to his desk and thought. Had he...? To no avail, he sat down on his chair and looked at the picture before his eyes that the utensils on his desk produced.

"Matt, can you tell if this person has touched the files on my desk? I'm quite sure they weren't neatly stacked up like this before!"

Frowning, his friend also joined him and _looked_ at the files more closely. Fascinated, Foggy watched as Matt's hand remained in the air just above the top file and his face was slightly lowered as he listened inside himself – or however he perceived things with his super senses. Then Matt tilted his head so that he looked in Foggy's direction and frowned again.

"Nothing should be missing in the files, they were only touched on the outside on the sides, as one would put them in order. But there seems to be something in your drawer. The middle one."

"Damn it! You wouldn't happen to know what it is? A bomb? A hand grenade? Another delicious cake from that nice older client from two weeks ago? Cause honestly, I'm really scared to find out right now. We should-"

"Matt? Foggy? You should see this," Karen shouted at that moment, and Foggy rose automatically while Matt was already walking in her direction.

"Karen, is everything all right?"

"Yes. But you really should come here..."

After he took one last uncertain look at the drawer, Foggy quickly went back into their entrance area and saw Karen standing in a stooped position in front of the front door.

"Karen?"

"I didn't see it before until I came out of your office, Matt. Here's a note stuck to the door with a short text written in a small font and at the end a small green heart was painted."

Hearing her words something inside him resonated to it. Foggy's eyes widened and not a second later he was standing next to Karen, tearing the paper off the door. Could that be?

"Foggy?"

Somehow, his head suddenly seemed completely empty, but when he let his gaze glide from the familiar green heart over the even more familiar writing he suddenly had the feeling of being a youth again, opening a letter addressed to him for the first time.

"What does this mean? _Evergreen, shrubby tree that yields fruits with smooth, green or rough, dark purple skin._ Does it ring any bells with you, Foggy?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Foggy saw that Matt leaned forward slightly and looked perplexed.

"This is a description of avocados. Why would someone break into our office and pin a note on the door with a description of avocados?"

Involuntarily, Foggy blushed and was glad that Matt couldn't see that. Although, surely he could sense something like that with his super senses, too? Sighing inwardly, he remembered the suspicious content that was supposed to be in his desk drawer and literally ran back there. This time he didn't hesitate and opened the drawer. He had almost expected to find a fruit there. But instead, there was an apparently self-made fold-out card.

"Foggy? Talk to us," Matt demanded, and when he looked up, he saw his two friends following him. "Do you know the person who wrote this note?"

"And broke into our office, mind you," Karen added.

Turning his gaze from his friends to the card, Foggy swallowed. "If it's who I think it is, it wasn't her fault..."

"What's that supposed to mean, Foggy?"

Carefully he opened the card and saw the same delicate handwriting like on the note on the door.

_Remember that you wanted to show me your favorite bar? Go ahead and you will find me..._

A soft laugh emanated from his chest, and with relief and spontaneous anticipation he let himself fall into his chair.

"Oh man, it really is her. I'm so screwed…" he groaned quietly, still smiling. "Hey, sorry, guys, yeah I know her. And I'm honestly quite glad that we hadn't called the police yet. It was... a bet that we made a long time ago. Admittedly, I'd been pretty drunk when I'd decided that she should bring me a signpost to the office while I wouldn't be there. I can't imagine what would have happened if we were still working at Landman and Zack instead of having our own law firm…"

"I don't believe it, Foggy! Who the hell is she?"

Against his will, he blushed again slightly and Foggy saw an astonished expression spread across Karen's face.

"Oh. My. God! Is she an old love of yours?" Giggling, Karen put her hands on his desk and looked at him curiously while leaning toward him.

"Come on, out with it. Tell us about her."

"Uh..."

Next to Karen, Matt stood with a little smirk on his face and suddenly he felt totally uncomfortable. How come she was here? It had been almost a whole year since they last wrote to each other and thanks to the work at the office he hadn't had time to think about her. But now it was as if it had only been yesterday since they had exchanged their most secret secrets. Did he even want to see her? For real and face to face? It was one thing to exchange quite a few things about yourself with someone who lived half a world away, but he had been glad that it had been so, because at some point he had sensed that he might have developed feelings for her in some way that were more than just friendly. Of course, as a rational person, it had been clear to him that this was totally idiotic. For one thing, there was a whole ocean between them, and for another, he didn't even know what she looked like! And now all of a sudden he was supposed to face her? Why did his knees have to feel like jello even though he was sitting? His hands also felt all sweaty and he absent-mindedly rubbed his fingers together. That was when he realized that he was no longer holding her card in his hands. Who-

Concentrating on his surroundings again, he heard Karen reading the short instruction to Matt. This time his blood ran from his face, because he remembered at that moment that the three of them had wanted to go to Josie's Bar that evening to relax anyway. And he could tell from his friends' faces that they had come to the same conclusion he had. Well, what could he rationally have said against it anyway? One walk there – two matters done. It couldn't have gone any better, could it? But instead of questioning him further, Matt surprised him by turning to Karen.

"I think we should allow Foggy to get his thoughts in order, Karen. I can't see him, but I clearly hear that he is nervous. Let's inspect the door to see if anything has been irreparably damaged. Before we go to Josie's we should definitely make sure that we can lock the office."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right, Matt. We should definitely do that."

When Karen just stepped out of his office, Foggy mumbled a muttered "Thanks, buddy" in Matt's direction and reaped another smirk for it.

And so, Foggy found himself sitting alone at his desk. But a postprocessing of the court case was out of the question. Oh, he tried, he really did. But no matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always wandered to his old acquaintance, which he had never seen before. Hearing Karen and Matt whispering quietly to each other didn't exactly help him focus on his notes either. And so he gave up 15 minutes later and resignedly closed the file again.

"Guys, you can stop whispering," he called out to his friends. "I can't get anything done today anymore. I suppose the door can still be locked? Then we might as well go to Josie's now."

As was to be expected, both agreed and so the three of them set off to where either Johanna would be waiting personally or another clue would be hidden for him.


	3. Chapter 3

**– A favorite bar –**

It was still quite early and Josie still had some time before the big evening rush would begin. With a smile she thought of all the regulars who would fill her bar with everyday worries and hopes again. And that made her bar a retreat – everyone could escape the world outside for a few hours, hang out with friends and just be themselves. Regarding her clientele, Josie had developed a codex of her own. And it was simple but effective: Everyone could drink as much as they wanted. Up to a certain limit. She only had had to call an ambulance once because a young man had overestimated himself and that had happened in the beginning, when she had just opened Josie's Bar. Since then, she has been watching her clientele closely and therefore knew their drinking habits and when they had had enough. And the regular customers had accepted it and in the end were silently grateful for it. Because this stop-before-breakdown drinking policy had the good side effect of keeping away the aggressive diehard drinkers, with which you can set the clock that they start brawls when the alcohol consumption reached a certain level. All in all, Josie was therefore proud of how her bar had developed over the years. With it, she had truly fulfilled herself a life-long dream.

Another effect was that she knew all guests, sometimes even their families, who came to her bar. And so she immediately took notice of the young woman when she walked through the door and looked around with curious eyes while plucking her bangs, obviously ruffled by the wind outside.

While she continued to watch the woman, she took a dishtowel and a glass and began to clean it. Josie had no idea who the woman was, but she didn't look like she belonged in this area. The coat looked expensive, not to mention the shoes. All that was missing was that she took out a sinfully expensive cell phone too and called a chauffeur to complain that she had gotten lost. But instead, the woman approached Josie with a friendly smile and without further ado settled down on a bar stool.

"Good afternoon," Josie heard her say in a bright and pleasant voice.

"Hey. New here? There's a fancy espresso bar a few blocks away, Miss."

"Oh, thanks for the tip. But I don't drink coffee, no matter what form it's in. And this bar was highly recommended to me. Are you Josie?"

The amused glint in the woman's eyes and the slight twitch of the corners of her mouth told Josie that she had heard the undertone. But instead of reacting angry or piqued, she had continued to respond with curious friendliness. This also made Josie curious, and with an eyebrow raised, she put the more than clean glass back in its place.

"Who wants to know?"

"I'm Johanna Lorenz. Nice to meet you. And yes, I'm new here, practically on a mission. Could I get a Coke, please?"

Josie automatically picked up the glass again and filled it with the wanted beverage.

"I'm Josie. What is this mission?"

Furtively, this Johanna looked around briefly to the left and right and then leaned slowly forward, as if she wanted to whisper something to Josie. The bar owner caught herself doing the same without thinking. This made the smile grow on the woman's face.

"I'm planning a surprise for my friend, Foggy Nelson. He comes here quite often, doesn't he?"

"Mr. Attorney? Oh, yeah, he and Murdock often honor us. But in what way are you friends?" Josie asked again a little suspiciously. The Devil may come get her if she let some rich dolly split the two lawyers who have done so much for Hell's Kitchen and who are respected and appreciated by everyone here.

"He probably won't like to admit it, but we are old pen pals," laughed the woman. "We made a bet some time ago and my part of it is to lure him to my location by means of various puzzles he has to solve. He has already received the first one and if he solves it, he will come here for the second one." Without haste she reached into her shoulder bag and took out a folded card that looked absolutely not expensive but rather handmade. "Would it be possible that I leave the card here and you would give it to Foggy when he comes here later?"

Perplexed, Josie accepted the card and took a look inside. And indeed, the text was nothing but an innocent riddle and obviously referred to something from their past. Just to be on the safe side, Josie turned the card over, but on the back was only a small green heart painted in the middle.

"What's it about the heart? He has a steady girlfriend. You shouldn't get your hopes up."

"Don't worry," came the reply. "I know about Marci. And no, I don't want to take him away from her. Foggy and I are more like brother and sister."

"Good for you."

Taking another glass, she started polishing that one too, even though it was clean.

"Okay, I'll give the card to Nelson, but only if he asks."

"That's all I want," the woman smiled, drank up her Coke, and after a quick glance at the price board put the money on the counter. Surprisingly, there was a decent tip in it. Not many new guests were so generous. But obviously she could afford it...

"But so that he doesn't catch me today, I have to leave now. It was very nice to meet you and I hope to see you again soon."

"Yeah, whatever."

Then the woman was gone and Josie put the money away. Looking at the card once again, she shook her head over the young people's games and put the card between two napkins to prevent it from getting wet, pushing it behind the cash register.

With another shake of her head she then focused on polishing the counter to a high gloss. Normally, it was enough for her to simply wipe it down, but the visit of the well-heeled woman had somehow awakened in her the need to pull the dishtowel a little harder over the counter.

When a good hour later the two lawyers came through the door with their secretary, Josie almost expected Foggy Nelson to wind her up for polishing. But that evening he didn't look well. His eyes flitted wildly around the bar and with the fingers of his left hand he drummed on his leg while walking and standing, as if he was incredibly nervous.

"So, Foggy? Is she here?"

"Again, Karen, how would I know? We have... uh, I really have no idea what she looks like. We never exchanged photos of ourselves. I already told you that."

With an incredulous expression, Karen settled down on the same bar stool where the young woman had been sitting before and who apparently was the subject of conversation, if Josie interpreted it correctly.

"I still can't believe it, Foggy! How will you recognize each other then? Were you always drunk when you wrote her?"

"Of course not! Jesus, Karen. I never thought about that. Johanna had never indicated she'd be coming to New York. Had I known, I would have asked for a photo, of course."

"Don't argue," Matt Murdock joined in and then looked Josie's way. "Good evening, Josie. Perhaps you can help us? Was there a young woman here today who left something for Foggy?"

Sometimes this Matt Murdock gave her the creeps. She hadn't made any noise, at least not one that she had noticed, and yet he was clearly looking in her direction. But maybe he just had to be like that to work with a vigilante like the Devil. Oh yes, Josie hadn't forgotten about the fact that the lawyers, with Daredevil's help, had sent Wilson Fisk to prison some time ago. One time Daredevil had even been outside the bar and confronted some bad guys with punches and kicks before they could get in here and do who knows what. Since then she was clearly aware what Daredevil was capable of. It probably took a calm soul like Matt Murdock to work with such a person. The fact that he was blind was certainly an advantage, because the horns looked totally real in the right lighting conditions and had given Josie a sleepless night after the close-up experience. But maybe he wasn't as blind as everyone thought? A few years ago, Josie had read about a boy who uses echolocation like a dolphin to see by constantly clicking his tongue. She had never heard Matt doing this, but who knew all the tricks of the lawyer?

With a snort she nodded and then looked at Foggy. The man looked really very nervous. And he had no idea what that Johanna looked like? Well, he could get ready for something. But Josie couldn't resist a warning.

"Don't be unfaithful to Marci, Nelson," she told him and fished the card out from behind the cash register.

"Why would I be unfaithful to Marci? And since when do you care about Marci? You two don't like each other very much the last time I checked?"

He was right. But, oh, how much Josie liked him. He had no trouble finding clear words, no matter what the subject was. He was a good one!

"Correct. But you know, that woman, Johanna, is clearly out of your league, Nelson, but elegant enough to make pretty eyes at you. And Matt here likes Marci. So if you leave Marci for the other one, just because she paints pretty hearts and flutters her eyelashes, then you'll surely quarrel and in the worst case you'll stop working together. And that wouldn't be so great for the people here. So you better keep your hands off her."

With big eyes, Foggy looked at her in shock and obviously didn't know what to say. It was almost cute how much he was standing beside himself. With a gentle sigh she gave him the card and immediately Karen leaned over it too, while Matt slowly sat down on a bar stool next to Karen.

Josie would have liked to listen to the conversation of the three even more, but at that moment the front door opened and six men entered her bar who almost always came here in large numbers after work and idolatrously loved her beer and grumpy charm. No sooner had she served the first beers than the next guests arrived and with more and more of them Josie became busier and busier and gradually forgot the slightly negative feelings she had about this Johanna.

At some point Murdock had already left, but Nelson and their secretary stayed a little over two hours. And with every new beer she put in front of Foggy, he became calmer and more relaxed. At the end he laughingly told a few stories about this woman and all in all she just seemed to be a nice and sincere friend. Secretly, Josie hoped so, because she didn't really feel like turning to Daredevil with the accusation that the woman was driving a wedge between the two lawyers. But to find that out, Josie would have to be patient...


	4. Chapter 4

**– Duty calls –**

The last time he had seen Foggy so nervous was before the announcement of the exam results. But that had been nothing compared to how his buddy was behaving now. Who was this Johanna? Admittedly, on their way to Josie's, Foggy had told Karen and him a bit about her. Two years younger than Foggy and himself, living in Leipzig, Germany, and being a paralegal, Foggy and she had certainly been able to have a few expert conversations during their penpalship. But Matt didn't know yet how they had met or who this woman was, what her personality was like. And to hear Foggy's pulse racing the closer they came to the bar and him drumming nervously against his leg with his fingers showed him what an influence Johanna Lorenz had on his buddy. Whether it was a good or a bad one he still had to find out. For although his friend behaved as if he would rather run away than get the next clue or see the woman for the first time in the bar, he still seemed to want nothing more than that.

Matt himself tried not to let anything show. But it also made him nervous. What would he do if the woman turned out to be a bad influence? Did he even have the right to say anything against her? Foggy was a grown man. But he was also a man in a committed relationship and Matt was sure that Marci would leave him if Foggy got involved in an affair. And if he was completely honest, Matt didn't know if Foggy could resist a fling with her. He hadn't lied when he said he had never seen her before, but something must have triggered the strong emotional reaction of his body.

Breathing the balmy evening air, Matt tried to calm his own nervousness and when they reached Josie's Bar and entered, he knew immediately that the woman had been there. He recognized the sweet smell from their office now for what it was and her scent of lilies still hung in the air, definitely stronger. But it was already swirling with other smells too and Matt estimated from experience that she must have been here about an hour ago. Furthermore, even before they had spoken to Josie, when Foggy was still nervously looking around every corner, Matt knew that she was involved. Usually she would only catch new bar visitors with a quick glance if she knew them. But today, Josie's eyes kept following his friend. It wasn't long before he was able to engage the bar owner in a conversation about the young woman he hadn't yet met. And judging by Josie's verbal and non-verbal reactions, his fear regarding Foggy and Johanna wasn't entirely unjustified. This didn't portray the woman in a particularly good light. Because you could say a lot about Josie, but in general she just knew people.

Sitting down next to Karen, Matt let his thoughts wander. But the more he recalled what he already knew about the woman, the more he realized with dismay that a tremendous pressure was building up inside him. And he knew that pressure all too well – it was anger. But at the same time there was something else, a slight feeling of sadness. When cultivating this friendship for years, why had Foggy never told Matt about it? Sipping his beer sullenly which he had ordered, he listened to Karen and Foggy with one ear as they continued to talk about the woman. This time the card contained some Star Wars riddle and a description of the house where her apartment was.

"So? What are you going to do, Foggy? She specially added her phone number on the card and invited the three of us. Will you accept?" Meanwhile, Karen, too, had a beer in her hand and looked at Foggy questioningly.

The three of us? Apparently, his mind had drifted a little further than he had intended, Matt realized. Otherwise, he wouldn't have missed parts of the conversation. That in turn warmed his heart, because he knew that he could only do that while being with his two friends. Obviously his body and soul trusted them completely, so that he could be vulnerable around them. And that was a good feeling. At the same time it showed him again how much it secretly bothered him to have known nothing about Foggy's pen friend. He had always told him everything – why else would Matt know all about Foggy's ex-girlfriends and-

With a feeling as if an ice bucket had been poured over his head, he realized that very moment that this was exactly the situation he had found himself in with Foggy month ago. Only then it had been the other way around! This time it wasn't Foggy who had learned an enormous secret from his best friend and reacted badly, but Matt! With an even worse feeling in his stomach, he remembered how much it had hurt him that his friend hadn't wanted – hadn't even really tried – to accept his motives for keeping his city safe night after night and still tried to dissuade him from his Daredevil way every now and then. Washing away the foul taste in his mouth with another sip he decided not to show his prejudices against this Johanna. This way Foggy wouldn't have to feel what he himself had been going through. His friend was simply too important to him to jeopardize their friendship again by arguing over a woman. Just as he was about to drink again, he felt Karen's hand on his shoulder and her breath on his cheek.

"Matt?"

Lowering his arm with the bottle again, he turned to his two friends.

"Yeah? Sorry, what did you ask?"

"Seriously, guys. It wasn't that hard a day so please no more spacing out around me," Karen grumbled in response.

From Foggy he received a more productive answer. "Johanna wrote that she's inviting all three of us for dinner tomorrow evening at her place. Would you like to come and meet her, buddy?"

They had known each other for so long now that Matt immediately noticed the subtle nuance in Foggy's voice. In a déjà vu he saw a shade of the younger Foggy in front of his inner eye, begging him in the same tone of voice to study with him for the final exam. Hearing his words once again as a faint echo the literal scales fell from Matt's eyes. _A friend as eager of knowledge as you are advised me to put my nose into my books..._

"Foggy... did Johanna advise you to study? At first you were calm before the exams, but I remember you received a letter and then you asked me to study with you again."

"Huh?" With the warmth rising on Foggy's face, Matt could already guess the answer. "Yes, she had talked to my conscience at the time... I mean, written... you know, whatever. She had told me back then that I shouldn't only go out if I really wanted to have a fancy office."

The corners of Matt's mouth involuntarily curled up into a smile. "You know, she was right. And, of course, I'm going with you."

"Oh, thanks, man! It would have been weird being alone with two women..."

"Well," Karen interjected, "you could have brought Marci if Matt didn't want to."

"That would have been an option. But not the right one! Johanna really wanted to meet Matt, you know? Apart from that you'd have been three against my lonely self! Totally unfair," Foggy muttered the last part into his bottle.

"She wanted to meet me? Why?" Being perplexed, the question slipped right out of Matt's mouth.

"Yeah, well... um... I'm just going to write her a message that we accept her invitation," he shirked from a clear answer and moved hastily towards the toilets.

While Karen laughed softly Matt suddenly felt the atmosphere around him change. But the tension he felt on his skin wasn't coming from inside the bar. Turning his senses outside, he could hear the excited hearts beating of four men who were just passing the bar, talking quietly to each other. With a mute sigh, he placed his almost empty beer bottle on the bar, paid and got up.

"Sorry, Karen. But I'm really beat today. I'm going to head home and go to bed early. I want to make a good impression tomorrow, if Foggy's mysterious friend wants to meet me."

"Okay, you do that. I'll tell Foggy." She smiled at him, oblivious that he could sense it. "Be careful."

"Thanks, Karen." Answering her with a smile too, he was just about to walk to the door when she stopped him by gently touching his arm. She then leaned closer to whisper to him.

"Hey, um... Don't worry about him, okay? Foggy's a big boy, and I don't think he'd cheat on Marci. I saw your concern, but let's not judge ahead of time, okay?"

Matt froze in surprise for a few seconds. "Was it that obvious?"

"Hmmm, quite a bit..."

"Ah, you know, you're right. For all we know, she could be ugly as a troll." Matt smirked. "And even if not, I'm confident Foggy will do the right thing. Good night, Karen."

Without waiting for another reaction from her, he quickly left the bar and headed home. And he had to hurry, the four men already had a good head start and to Matt's disadvantage they hadn't mentioned which store they were going to rob.

…

And so he had to wait on the rooftops and try to hear them again before he could stop them. To their disadvantage – but they didn't know that at that time – they had guns with them and the echo of the shots fired brought Daredevil right back to them.

He arrived just in time to stop the first one from shooting a young police officer. With the second he had to struggle briefly in the kitchen of a Chinese restaurant. The third was put out of action with a quick blow against the windshield of a car. In order to get the driver out of his state of shock, he spoke briefly to him.

"Call 911," he ordered and dashed across the car in pursuit of the last robber.

With this one it finally became interesting for Matt and he felt his adrenaline level rise. The man had fled into a chapel with a girl he had taken hostage. Did he really think that Daredevil wouldn't follow him there? Matt could literally taste the teenage girl's fear on his tongue and her wild heartbeat was like thunder to his ears. But the robber and now also hostage-taker was also extremely nervous. And although he wasn't aiming with the gun at the girl at the time, it was extremely risky to go straight at him. Matt wasn't sure how the man would react and so he decided to distract him. He smashed the lights with his batons and managed to sneak closer as the man fired backwards. That was good, the less bullets he would have to deflect. And his distraction resulted in something else: When the robber then saw him, he concentrated entirely on him and not on the girl. So it was easy for Matt to disarm the man and knock him out.

Since the teenage girl was unharmed and her friends outside had already called the police, there was nothing more for him to do. Taking the back exit of the small chapel, he climbed onto the roof of the building and waited until the excitement subsided.

Only then did he realize that the chase had removed the inner pressure that had built up in him more and more in the course of the evening. And this confirmed for him once again that he was doing the right thing – not only did he do good deeds for his city by being Daredevil, it also helped him enormously. With a self-satisfied smile he continued listening to the nightly sounds and was ready to continue his work.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning – this chapter includes memories of rape, violence in the labor room and the death of a child. If these topics trigger you, you should read it with caution or skip the conversation with Father Lantom, even if it is important as background knowledge regarding Johanna.

**– Tears in the church –**

  
Although she had gone to bed quite early, after the jet lag fatigue had struck relentlessly, Johanna woke up anything but rested. Basically, she had problems waking up in a foreign bed in a foreign city. But this time, her discomfort wasn't only due to this. After just staring at the ceiling for a good ten minutes, she painstakingly got up and began the day with robotic movements. She had known for weeks that it wouldn't be easy since she knew the date of her flight. But she had assumed that a meeting with Foggy that very day would help her not to collapse in this foreign country being without her family and so she was more than motivated to pull herself together to see him if he wanted to and had time.

Yesterday, she still had been confident and so sure of herself that this time would certainly not be as bad as the years before. But at that very moment she felt the familiar emptiness of that one day of the year and her heart began to cramp with pain. All the more she tried to fight her way through it. Therefore, routinely, she turned on her cell phone to start into the day and a message popped up. A little glimmer of hope? She quickly opened the message and a little smile stole itself onto her face.

_**/ Welcome to NY – nice riddles, when should we be with you? Me + 2. Happy to finally see you in person. Fog /** _

_Foggy..._ A sob reached her ears and Johanna was shocked to discover that hot tears were running down her cheeks. Angry at herself, she quickly wiped them away and stood up energetically. With slightly shaky hands she typed her answer and then dressed after refreshing herself. After a short breakfast with a muesli bar and a large glass of orange juice in absolute silence, she left her apartment with a stony expression on her face and set off for the address she had chosen not even 24 hours ago.

On her way home last evening she had discovered the small church with the two red door wings by chance and quickly noted down the address. She didn't know why, but this church had seemed to speak to her in some way and Johanna had a hunch that the special atmosphere in this Lord's house would do her good that day.

To avoid the embarrassment of having to ask a passer-by for directions again, she had printed out detailed directions and even marked her route in color. She should really need to work on her sense of orientation, especially if she was going to stay there in Manhattan a little longer.

 _Let's see how the meeting with Foggy and his friends goes..._ she thought and smiled slightly as she turned around the corner of a house and saw the church in front of her. But she didn't really feel joy. With a clammy feeling in her limbs, she crossed the street with heavy footsteps and approached the invitingly open doors. After a short hesitation at the entrance while breathing in the air coming from inside, she noticed how the uncomfortable feeling in her stomach began to settle.

 _There's something, just like yesterday…_ she wondered and closed her eyes for a moment.

It was pleasant to feel that the atmosphere of the church could literally affect her already at the threshold. This gave Johanna hope that she wouldn't come out this year as a weeping mental wreck.

And so, after a long look around and admiring the architectural beauty of the interior, her footsteps carried her to a side altar, where she paused to watch the already lit candles for a bit. The quiet flickering of the fires had always held something soothing for her, and even now it was as if all unnecessary thoughts were more and more silenced the longer she stared into the dancing flames. What remained was the reason why she was there, and with steady fingers, she lit a match and with it the wick of a candle to put it with the others.

With an inner thankful sigh she walked a few steps further and sat down in the next pew. Looking at the main altar and the windows above she listened to her surroundings. But she was apparently alone. No soft murmur of prayer or rustle of clothing reached her ear and without thinking she then raised her voice. Was it allowed to sing in church just like that? Johanna didn't know it, but the words she had wanted to sing all those previous years when she hadn't been able to do so could no longer be held back.

And so  
She let go  
Of the pages that remained  
Let go  
Let go  
Let go  
No epilogue  
No swan song  
Just memories and space  
Don't go  
Don't go  
Don't go  
Do I look up or look within?  
It's all too final to make sense  
Do I need something to believe in?  
To feel the beating of her wings  
Don't go  
Don't go  
Don't go  
There's no sense  
No real end  
Just a turning of a page  
Why oh?  
Why oh?  
Why?  
Do I look up or look within?  
It's all too final to make sense  
Do I need something to believe in?  
To feel the beating of her wings  
And I remember everything  
All the love and joy she'd bring  
Is that something to believe in?  
Is that the beating of her wings?

The silence after her voice died down was peaceful and a single tear rolled down her cheek. But now she could no longer feel the empty painful void that she had carried inside her for nine long years.

"Should I finally have found peace?" Her murmuring was barely audible and with a small smile she closed her eyes and tried mentally to feel the emptiness and the pain within herself. But they were really gone.

"May I sit with you?" A warm voice interrupted her thoughts, and startled, she turned to the man. With one look Johanna realized that it was a priest.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Oh, no, that's all right, Pater. After all, it's your church," she stammered and then without thinking moved a little further into the pew to make room for him.

"The church is for all people, my child. You aren't from here?"

"What gave me away?" Laughing softly, her heartbeat calmed down again and Johanna decided that she liked the calm and warm voice of this priest.

"In all the years I've been here, I've never been called Pater." Sitting down and turning to her, she could look into his eyes, which radiated a warm kindness. "I'm Father Paul Lantom."

"Oh... I'm sorry. I'm from Germany, and as far as I know, priests in my country are referred to as Pater I think."

With a nod he accepted her reply and pointed to the cross of the church with an open gesture of his hand.

"What brings you here? Tourists don't usually come to our little church. And even less mourn a deceased soul with a song."

Automatically, Johanna wanted to apologize for having sung, but she suppressed the urge when she didn't see even a spark of reproach in the priest's body language. That made her pause. Should she tell him about it? She didn't even know him. But maybe that was a good thing? It had always been good for her to write difficult things from her life to Foggy, especially because he lived so far away – he hadn't been much emotionally affected by it, because he hadn't seen how she had experienced and processed things. With words, many things could be concealed... But, so far, professional conversations hadn't helped her. However, this priest seemed honestly interested in hearing her motives, and if her current emotional state gave her any premonition, she would bear with it and maybe... Yeah, maybe even come out of it stronger. And so Johanna made the decision to open herself to him.

With shaky hands – because she didn't really fully trust the peace yet and expected the pain to return any moment – she opened her bag and took out her wallet. From a side pocket she pulled out a small photo and handed it to the priest. He took it and looked at it in silence. Even after a minute, which felt like an eternity for Johanna on the one hand, he remained silent. On the other hand, she was grateful that he gave her time as much as she needed to find words. Because no well-meaning conversational partner, therapist or family member had done this for her before.

This was probably also the reason why Johanna finally confided in this complete stranger. Looking at the beautiful windows she began to tell her story.

"This is my daughter. She died before I gave birth to her… And it was hard... so hard for me," Johanna told him and sighed. Thoughtfully, she lowered her eyes and looked at her hands, realizing that she was kneading them unconsciously. "After the graduation ceremony for my year, I went to a bar with friends. Young and stupid as I was, I didn't pay attention to my drink and I was given something in the glass. It didn't knock me out completely. I noticed everything like through a veil and felt what the guy did to me in the restroom. That's where I had gone when the drink had made me sick. My best friend noticed after a few minutes that I was gone and came looking for me. She had always been the nerdy one from our group, but when she saw the guy coming out of the restroom and me lying there on the floor she freaked out. She grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him against the wall so he couldn't get away. My mother told me later in the hospital that my friend gifted the guy with a broken nose and two teeth knocked out."

Johanna had to laugh quietly at the memory. This was the first and only time she had seen her only 5.2 ft tall best friend become a berserker.

"It took me a long time to accept what had happened. For me at least it was a long time. Everyone else didn't understand why I could forgive him right after the trial ended."

The memory of his face streaming with tears made her pause in her narrative.

"It is rare that victims of such violent experiences show their tormentors so much kindness to forgive them," Johanna heard the gentle voice of the priest next to her.

"Oh, that had nothing to do with kindness. Not really. More like self-protection. You know, my past... I had a really crappy childhood and would've been broken long ago if I hadn't had a- um... I know in life bad things can happen. Sometimes you're in the wrong place at the wrong time and when it happens you have the choice between two options. Who do you want to be afterwards? Do you stay in the role of a victim and sink into sadness and depression or do you not fight against what you cannot change anyway? Well, the past is one of those things you definitely cannot change. I decided for myself that I wanted to move on and therefore I forgave him. I was able to do that easily because I- I... I'm good at not thinking about bad things anymore. I just accept it and shove my emotions regarding what happened away. Well, even said best friend of mine couldn't understand that I could separate my emotions from what happened to my body. But this is what helped me to make the decision each time that I wanted to go on with my life. Sometimes..." She slowly moistened her lips with her tongue, dry from speaking, and audibly sucked air into her lungs. "Sometimes it scares me, Pater. It makes me feel that I'm reacting like a robot. But it has helped me a lot so far. Well, it didn't when I lost my daughter. Everyone advised me to abort the child. I was young, I was about to start a vocational training and how could I have loved a child which came into existence because of a rape? I could understand all the arguments. But you know what? I had taken the birth control pill and that even though I didn't have a boyfriend at that time. And still- still life had been strong enough to let new life grow inside me! How could I have killed her? Because I hadn't noticed it for a long time, only when her tiny little heart was already strongly beating. She lived! And she was a part of me, half of her was my DNA and I had decided to love her! Somehow I would have managed to raise her, even if my decision would have meant losing the support of my family. I was ready."

When something wet dripped on her hands she blinked a few times as if waking up from a deep sleep. Disbelievingly, she looked at her hands and noticed her tears running down her face unimpeded. Then, for the first time, instead of the painful emptiness, she felt a rage that stabbed into her stomach like a hot iron. Wrapping her belly protectively with her arms, she bent forward.

"I had carried her for eight months when her heart stopped beating. At such an advanced stage of pregnancy, you have to deliver the baby as in a normal birth. That would help, the doctors said. Don't make a fuss, they said. The baby wouldn't have been born without the rape anyway, they said. They didn't give her to me after I gave birth to her in long painful hours. If my mother hadn't taken a picture of her, I would have nothing of her. And I... I lay there and I couldn't shut off my emotions like all the bad times before. I haven't been able to since. Today would have been her ninth birthday..."

Angrily, she tried to wipe away the tears, but they wouldn't dry up.

"What was her name?"

Surprised, she looked at Pater Lantom, but she could only guess his facial expression because of her blurred vision. Then she felt a handkerchief being placed in her palms and with a grateful nod she wiped her eyes dry. It took a few minutes, but like before, he remained silent and gave Johanna time to collect herself.

"I... I didn't give her one," she finally said. "I didn't want to bind her soul to this world by giving her the burden of a name. A midwife had said she fell asleep peacefully inside me and I wanted her to move on just as peacefully. To whatever comes after. For me, she had always been my little- Würmchen. Um, I don't know if there's a diminutive and cute form of worm in English? You know? Like a pet name… In German Würmchen doesn't sound so wormy," Johanna smiled embarrassed and heard the priest laughing softly.

"I get what you mean."

"Yeah… well, why was she taken from me, Pater?" asked Johanna in a low but emotionally charged voice. "I would have been everything for her. She would have had a good life. Her soul had fought for a body and, I was told, she was also very healthy. Why then? I then entered vocational training late but finished it regularly, was almost the best in my class and then had a good job. But something of mine had died with her that day. I wasn't able to process it emotionally, and every year since then, I was a wreck that day. I, uh... for dinner, I am expecting guests today. I knew that it would be easier to pull myself together if I knew someone would come to visit me. Then yesterday I found the church here by chance and somehow... something seemed to call me. That is why I'm here today. And it's the first time I didn't break down when I lit the candle for my little one. But now I feel a rage inside of me that is clawing at my heart as if it wants to rip it out! I would love to scream right now. But I don't know who I should shout at! Who am I to blame for her heart stopping?"

"Why didn't you want to bind her soul to this world? You say she should have gone on peacefully. That was a very selfless thought. What exactly hurts you that she is with God and not with you?"

With a quiet snort, Johanna put her head in the back of her neck and let her eyes close, to escape everything for a moment.

"That is a good question, Pater. But you know I'm not really religious. I'm not sure if there's a God. So far I haven't found any evidence for it, but I don't want to exclude it either."

"Ah, you're an agnostic then," heard Johanna and turned her head towards him. Looking at the cross, he leaned himself back against the back of the pew.

With a nod she continued, "But I have often thought about what makes me so emotional. That couldn't be avoided. I did a second vocational training and there we talked a lot about biography work because it is essential for the job. It forced me to reflect a lot about my issues." She sighed.

"I didn't know that I was so angry under my pain. But considering all that I have thought about, I must admit to myself that I'm not as selfless as you think, Pater. All my life I've been at the mercy of the adults around me. This sounds melodramatic, I know, but I felt this way as a child. And they often decided things for me that were directed against me. I think I wanted my daughter so badly to do better than all of them. Through her I could have proven that I could achieve something, that I could take care of someone and raise them. I wouldn't have felt so useless and small anymore, as I was always told as a child."

"Anger is good-"

"Really?" Johanna interrupted him and drew a skeptical frown. "Blind rage is as destructive as what has kept me imprisoned these past nine years."

"It can be, yes. I admit, you have a very interesting way of coping. But it's hard to judge if you really had processed all the things from your past and that's why I think that all the emotions you pushed away before your daughter's death have come back in that moment. And that has added up. I suppose you've had a lot of conversations about this over the years?"

"Yeah, but none was even remotely so- well, therapeutic." She smiled. "No one ever really let me talk about it all. Everyone always wanted to dictate to me from the outside how I should feel inside."

"And yet you even finished two vocational trainings and left home to be all alone here in a strange city. I can't imagine that this can be achieved by someone who is small and useless."

His words left a warm feeling in Johanna's chest and after a sniff she blew her nose. Unexpectedly, the acoustics of the church made a strangely loud noise out of it and when she saw the priest smiling, it was as if a knot in her was loosened and she laughed out loud. And it was such a liberating feeling!

"I don't think that blind rage torments you. You have a very good view of the things that goes on inside your head and heart and it sounds to me as if you are already well on the way to really coming to terms with your loss. But you must not suppress your anger, you would only harm yourself further. Find a way to channel it. You know, I know someone who also had a lot of anger inside of him. He went- let's call it boxing to let it out that way."

"And does it help? Him, I mean?"

"I hope so. At least I haven't seen him at confession for quite some time now," she heard him chuckling and smirked.

"That might really be a good idea. Maybe not boxing, but I have something similar."

"I'm glad to hear that." The priest nodded and looked at her attentively. "You look much better than you did when we started talking."

"I feel better too. Thank you, Pater Lantom." Johanna smiled. But then her eyes widened while noticing that she had spoken to him again as Pater. She quickly got up and turned completely around to face him. "I'm sorry. I did it again, Pater. Ah! I mean Father."

A hearty laugh reached her ear and her hands were enclosed by his after he also stood up. Johanna sensed that something was placed in the palm of her hand and when she looked, there was the photo of her little angel.

"I forgive you and allow you to continue calling me Pater. But only under one condition."

She saw his wink but couldn't help her questioning face. "What would that be?"

"Tell me your name. Then I can include you by name in my prayers and I don't have to call you the brave young woman from overseas."

He wanted to include her in his prayers? For at least ten seconds Johanna just stood there and didn't know what to say. Then her body relaxed and she felt all the tension, fear, even anger ebb away from her, leaving her with a feeling of deep joy.

"I'm Johanna Lorenz. I'm happy making your acquaintance, Pater Lantom. I was right to come here. Thank you for being here for me today."

"These doors are always open for you, Johanna. A word of warning though, since you are new in this city – please beware of dark alleys and walks at night here."

"Ah, my cab driver has already briefed me," she replied. "I confess, the man he mentioned, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, I would like to see in action, but my instinct for self-preservation is far too great to seek danger because of it."

"Oh, they call him Daredevil these days. It's probably better on the tip of the tongue." Father Lantom shook his head with obviously feigned indignation and stepped out into the church hallway. "But I'm glad to hear that you will take care of yourself."

"I will," Johanna whispered in the direction of the flickering candle she had set up and left the church with light steps and a feeling more pleasant than she had had for years.

* * *

The Beating of Her Wings – song written by Karliene Reynolds


	6. Chapter 6

**– Just about 120 –**

  
_First riddle solved - congratulations! For tomorrow night I invite you, Mr. Murdock and Ms. Page to a dinner at my place. But to find it, you still have to solve the following riddle and be attentive:_

_Remember our conversation about Luke Skywalker? In which month (avenue) of which year (street) was the actor born who played him? There you will find a red building, the first floor of which is surrounded by light and dark. To the third floor, where my apartment is located, wafts the delicious smell of fresh pizza into my window from the dark._

_I wish you a successful search. Please write me if I can expect you. Anna_

Her second self-designed card also immediately reminded him of his pen pal – the small drawings, her filigree handwriting, the heart… With a little smile he swore to himself to read her letters again later, as soon as he had told Marci about her. Well, he would certainly not manage to read them all. There weren't even that many, just about 120 or so, but each one had always been several pages long, except for the very first few. But now he first had to solve the current riddle of her. With an expectant sideways glance at his two friends, Foggy saw that Matt was deep in thought. But Karen had her eyes on the text and murmured softly to herself. So he could expect help from her. With a grin, he laid the card open on the counter in front of him and turned halfway towards Karen.

"Do you already have an idea?"

"Hmm, one question. Why is she signing with Anna? Is it her nickname?"

"Yep. During our early meetings in writing I asked her if I could call her Jo. She hadn't signed her letters with her name, which was strange, and I thought that she might not like it. And I thought Jo was a strong female name, that's why, you know? But she wrote me back saying she didn't want to be called Jo. I could call her Anna though," Foggy explained and shrugged.

"Okay. Well, I can't remember who played Skywalker. Never really paid much attention to the actors. Never thought I could use this specific knowledge." Karen laughed and took a sip from her bottle.

"Yeah, me neither. Honestly, that was so long ago, I don't remember what we talked about regarding the series. But I recall the actor, it was Mark Hamill. But don't ask me when he was born."

"Hmm hmm, we can work with that." Obviously determined, she opened her purse and took out her cell phone. With nimble fingers she tapped the keyboard. "Ha!" Karen laughed a short time later and showed the display to Foggy.

"September 1951... Then her apartment must be at 51st Street and 9th Avenue," Foggy concluded. But with this realization came something else. Nervousness returned to his stomach, and he looked at Karen with a probably panicky expression in his eyes.

"So? What are you going to do, Foggy? She specially added her phone number to the card and invited the three of us. Will you accept?"  
Her tone of voice was neutral, but a knowing smile shone towards him.

"Um, you're coming, right? Or do you have something planned that I don't know about yet?"

His friend looked at him with a gentle and understanding expression. "You can count on me. I'll have your back, Foggy." Then she looked over at Matt and addressed him.

"Matt?"

But there was no reaction from him. Karen tried two more times, but his buddy still didn't react and that made Foggy even more nervous. Normally Matt heard every whisper, no matter how quiet, and since Foggy knew his secret, he knew why. So, either he was really exhausted or he was so deep in his thoughts that Foggy wondered what was bothering him so much. Meanwhile, Karen had managed to somehow get through to him. But, thank God, his buddy also promised to accept this invitation and wouldn't leave Foggy to his acquaintance alone.

But that didn't really calm his emotional inner life. After he had sent a short message to Johanna, he had one less lump in his throat. But his general condition didn't necessarily improve. For at some point Matt would certainly ask the question why he hadn't told him about her. How should he answer it? Then he would have to admit that he-

Looking in the direction of his friends he just saw how Matt left the bar and Karen strolled back to her seat a few seconds later. A feeling of relief spread through him because that meant he wasn't forced to answer any questions his best friend might have that night. At the same time, a tentacle of guilt and shame began to clasp his heart, because Foggy was absolutely sure that Matt was only ending the evening so early because somewhere somebody was doing something criminal again, which he felt it was his duty to prevent or stop. With a sigh he joined Karen again and without hesitation put the bottle of beer to his mouth to let the cool liquid flow down his throat.

Would Karen question him now? He definitely didn't have the same senses as Matt, but he too could feel the curiosity radiating all around her. But Karen surprised him. Their conversation just turned around superficial things, like what Foggy thought she should wear to the dinner. At some point – could it be that Josie deliberately put one beer after another in front of him without her usual snippy remarks, even after he realized how blurry his pronunciation was already getting? Well, so what? It was probably just coincidence. After all, even Josie could have a good day, couldn't she? In any case, Foggy felt that at some point, talking about his soul mate no longer made him nervous.

"Wait a minute... Have I just called Anna my soul mate?" Mumbling to himself, Foggy tried to remember and looked at Karen questioningly. But she just put her chin on her palm and returned his gaze with curious eyes.

"So, she actually gave you flirting tips? By letter? What exactly did she advise you to do?"

...

He shouldn't have drunk so much. Even though it actually wasn't that much? At least Foggy was sure it was only beer. Wasn't it? But he wasn't usually that drunk on beer! The day must have really tugged at him – both physically and mentally.

 _Oh man, the last hour's kind of fuzzy..._ he admitted to himself as he left the cab after taking three full minutes to give the driver his money. That poor man must have been glad to get rid of his passenger. Foggy could understand that, he was a very happy and loud drunk and yeah, he had seen the grimaces the driver made. But what could he say, once he had started talking about Johanna because of his lowered inhibitions while still being with Karen, he somehow hadn't managed to stop himself until then.

Now he faced the difficult task of climbing the stairs to his apartment and finding the key in his pocket. But apparently his body had some kind of muscle memory. Because less than ten minutes later he was standing in his apartment, grinning, because he had mastered the task without having to strain his brain. Matt would be proud of him. Foggy was proud of himself. Only six months ago, he hadn't even known that there was such a thing as muscle memory.

Stripping off his shoes, he saw that there was already a very feminine, elegant pair of pumps in their usual place. Automatically Foggy paused and then tiptoed on. Marci would surely already be asleep? Turning left – left again – the door was half open and peeking inside the room he saw that he had guessed right. Marci lay on their bed, half covered with a thin blanket, and slept. Seeing her, Foggy couldn't suppress a satisfied sigh. After all the ups and downs in their bumpy relationship since law school, they were finally together. Like, together together. The real deal. And Foggy loved to feel Marci's fine hair, which looked like soft silk in the moonlight shining in their bedroom. But even more he loved her steadfast and determined personality and that she simply knew what she wanted. And he didn't know why, but for some reason it was him she wanted...

He would have loved to lie down with her right away, but he had something to do – oh yes, he couldn't forget that. So he crept on as quietly as possible. On the carpeted floor it was no problem to move quietly. Well, except that he almost tripped over a book lying on the floor.

"What is that book doing down there?" Foggy murmured to himself and gave the book a nasty look. But then he remembered that he himself had swept it off his bedside table last night when things got a little wild in bed. That morning he must have simply forgotten it...

Giving the tome a clearly apologetic look then and there, he turned around and went to his closet. He quickly found what he was looking for in a box under a shoe card. When they had moved in together to this new apartment a few weeks ago, Foggy hadn't really taken much sentimental stuff from his youth. Most of it was photos anyway, which he had stored on an already somewhat outdated external hard drive. But he couldn't just scan and save the letters the same way. That would have destroyed the very special feeling he had always liked while holding and smelling a letter. Nothing was better than receiving a letter handwritten in ink and addressed to you, wasn't it? Unless of course the letter addressed to you was an invoice... But this kind of letter was mostly not handwritten.

Grinning, he pulled the box silently out of the closet and crept back into the living room. Or at least that was his plan until he stubbed his little toe on the heavy book and emitted a grunting sound of pain.

"Foggy Bear?" he heard Marci's sleepy voice asking and saw her slowly rise up on her right elbow to get a better view of him.

"Damn, I didn't want to wake you. It's all your fault."

"What? Me?"

"What?"

For a moment, Foggy didn't know what she meant. But then he realized that from her position on the bed she certainly couldn't see the confounded book that he had given an absolutely spiteful stare.

"Not you, darling," he quickly reassured her, and limped a little dramatically to the bed to sit down. "The book on the floor is to blame. It obviously enjoys lying in my way, and I stubbed my toe. It is certainly broken!"

"Really?" mumbled Marci drowsily and gave his foot a disparaging look as he put it on the bed. "You don't break a toe that easily. And I already told you this morning that you should put your bedtime reading back up."

"Come on, Marci, a little pity here," Foggy begged and bent over to her for a kiss. "I didn't have time this morning; had to mentally prepare for the trial!"

"Yeah, whatever," she drawled while yawning. "What have you here?" she asked, gesturing towards the box with the letters.

If Foggy hadn't been so drunk, he probably would have thought about his words. But so the explanation just slipped out of his mouth.

"These are the letters of my long-time friend from Germany. In all the confusion and stress after Matt and I pulled up our law firm, the murder of Mrs. Cardenas and Matt's-"

At the last second, he barely managed to stop himself from divulging something that Foggy wasn't sure if he should tell Marci and if he had the right to do so. He swallowed hard and tried a fake cough as a cover-up tactic. In the process, he stole a glance at Marci to see her reaction. But she just looked tired and a little irritated.

"Matt's what?" she grumbled with a raised perfect eyebrow.

"Well, not just Matt's obsession with Fisk. Anyway, we haven't exchanged letters for nearly a year and now she's suddenly here. She-"

"It's a woman?"

 _Uh-oh..._ Foggy swallowed again because of her tone and noticed that Marci had now raised both perfect eyebrows.

"Franklin Percy Nelson, I have no idea how late or early it is right now and I'm absolutely not in the mood for this drunken half-baked information. Who is she and did you sleep with each other?"

"NO!" Outraged, Foggy crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why do all people today insinuate that I had, have or will have something with her? She is the only reason why I even approached you back then! You were – are – so perfect and I was aware that you could have anyone. I was really afraid to talk to you. But Anna encouraged me and gave me helpful tips."

"So, an Anna, huh?" Marci asked and Foggy saw how her lips first formed into a seductive smile. Then she stood up elegantly in her negligee and bent over to him. She came closer and closer and Foggy could smell a hint of her flowery perfume on her.

"You addressed me with quite the original little speech back then, I admit that. Sooooo, am I summing your emotional outburst up correctly by assuming that you are only pen pals and I don't have to be jealous of this Anna?"

By now, Marci was so close to him that she was practically sitting on his lap and he could almost taste the soft skin of her lips, which were only a finger's breadth away from his. Oh yes, Matt would certainly be very proud of his senses as well, Foggy smiled happily. But then he frowned. Why was he thinking of Matt? He had his girlfriend – his only a wafer-thin negligee wearing girlfriend – in his arms, and the devil may get him if he let anyone distract him from giving to his girlfriend right then and there what she was so obviously longing for.

"No need to be jealous," he gently breathed to her, what made her purr.

"Good. Because I do _not_ share. If she realizes that, she is welcome to enter our lives in persona."

Then she said nothing more, but closed the gap by moving even closer to him and pressing her lips against his. His arousal quickly became apparent and it wasn't long before the two of them continued their wild dance from the night before. What a coincidence that the book was still on the floor and Foggy didn't have to sweep it away again…


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to you all.

**– Meeting new people –**

  
She was used to go shopping for her everyday life. Johanna had already learned this in childhood and normally it was a routine matter that she didn't think about anymore. In her hometown she knew all the stores in the area and knew which products were on which shelves. But here in New York, Manhattan, Hell's Kitchen suddenly a tingly feeling crept back into her stomach. It was suddenly fun again and exciting to work through her shopping list in many different small stores. In between she had bought a little something to eat, because it was early afternoon and slowly but surely she had to go back to her apartment if she wanted to prepare dinner for her guests in time.

But she wasn't yet under stress. The conversation with Pater Lantom had done her so well that Johanna wouldn't have to spend extra time locking her emotions away. And even though she wasn't yet familiar with Hell's Kitchen and was standing in what felt like the twentieth store, she still had an exhilarated body feeling and was humming slightly while waiting to be able to pay next at the checkout.

A short time later she walked through the pedestrian zone with five full bags and let the sun shine in her face. Johanna would never have thought that this day would become so good and she was infinitely grateful to Pater Lantom that he had decided to talk to her.

With a smile, she drew in the typical big-city smell and let the atmosphere sink in as she tried to orientate herself. Johanna felt as if she was in an electrifying swarm of bees due to the rising and falling buzz of conversations and general noises of people passing by and scurrying through the city on this early Saturday afternoon. Thinking she had seen a familiar-looking building, she joined the swarm and integrated herself with a low hum.

But she soon realized that she didn't know the area that well just yet after all, and with a groan she stopped. But that had obviously been a mistake. Because not even a few seconds later someone bumped into her and one of her bags slipped off her shoulder and the contents spread around her.

Johanna automatically shouted "Hey!", but this person had already disappeared into the crowd and obviously had no intention of helping her collect it. All the other people obviously didn't either...

"Excuse me... Please wait a moment..." Johanna tried to make herself heard by the people, but even after she had already bent down to pick up the utensils she had bought, she was bumped into again and this time so hard that she lost her balance and found herself on her backside.

"Scheibenkleister!" she gasped. "I really shouldn't praise the day before the evening!" Cursing under her breath she looked at the culprit. He too had lost his balance and stumbled. He just picked up his cell phone and then looked at her angrily.

"Hey, man, can't you be careful? That cell phone was expensive! Shit, you made me lose my score!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry about that," Johanna replied snappily. "Then how about not looking at your cell phone in the pedestrian zone, but at where you're currently walking?"

There was one good thing about it at least – her loud calls had put the rest of the people at a distance and she was able to quickly pick up everything that had fallen out of her bag. When she straightened up and shouldered her bags again, the young man had also disappeared. With a sigh, she shook her head as she was about to stand near the wall of a shop to fish her cell phone out of her pocket. Without online support, she would probably not find her apartment again. Surely she could have asked someone – again – but this experience had just spoiled her desire to talk to the locals for a bit.

Just as she was about to enter her address, a hand appeared in her field of vision, holding the coconut soap Johanna had bought in the store before last. Surprised, she looked up and found herself face to face with a grinning blonde.

"Here, you missed the soap. And congratulations to good verbal reflexes."

"Oh, thank you," Johanna replied, giving the strange woman a grateful smile. This one was elegantly dressed and with her upright posture, perky look and unobtrusively painted nails she gave the impression of a woman who definitely didn't let anyone take the butter off her bread, like Johanna's mother used to say about ambitious people. She quickly slid her cell phone into her coat pocket and took the soap from the woman, putting it back in her bag.

"At least the second part with the teenager. This is Hell's Kitchen, you know, you have to make your voice heard if you want something. People don't understand it any other way. So, just don't be squeamish..."

Johanna felt the woman looking her up and down and didn't know what to answer her. So her politeness, instilled since early childhood, took over.

"Well, thanks for the advice." Automatically she extended her hand to the woman, while with deft fingers of the other she made sure that the bags didn't slip from her shoulders. "Johanna Lorenz, nice to meet you."

Astonished, she saw the woman raise her eyebrows as she took a step backward.

"Johanna Lorenz?"

Her voice had an undertone that Johanna couldn't place. But the question definitely sounded as if the woman knew her. But how could that be? "Um, yes?" she therefore asked cautiously.

"Who would have thought…" the woman murmured to herself and showed a smile that reminded Johanna more of a mischievous grin. Johanna tried to hide her insecurity, but the woman must have sensed it nonetheless – of course, people like her could literally always sense insecurity in their counterparts a kilometer away – because the grin of her metallic pink painted lips never wavered while she shortly searched within her purse and then held out a card to Johanna.

Reflexively she took it and with a quick glance saw that it was a business card.

"My number is on the back. If something like this happens to you again and you need a lawyer to enforce your rights while being here, feel free to call me."

A... lawyer? With a quiet laugh, she looked at the woman again. Sure enough, now her confident aura made sense. It also made Johanna feel more confident again. After all, she could deal with lawyers.

"Thank you for your help and the card. But why should I sue someone just because they bumped into me?"

The woman opened her mouth but before she could answer the question, her cell phone started ringing. Asking for a few moments to take the call with an outstretched index finger, Johanna felt weirder and weirder. How had she ended up in this situation, here in the middle of a busy pedestrian zone, talking to a lawyer who apparently also wanted to attract new clients on a Saturday? Johanna appreciated good work ethics, but at the same time she wondered if it would be too cheeky to just walk away after another grateful nod. Before she could decide to do so, however, she heard something that made her freeze and listen intently.

"Foggy Bear, you finally found your way out of bed?"

Could that be? Curious she sought the gaze of the woman and when their eyes met, she began to have an inkling of who she had talked to the last minutes. The woman's gaze had become lurking and obviously she found what she was looking for, because she suddenly looked very smug. Slowly, Johanna lifted her hand with the business card and turned it over so she could read what was written on the back. And sure enough, next to a cell phone number there was the name she knew from Foggy's letters.

"...I'll be home in a few minutes and bring you something for your hangover. See you soon..." she purred into her phone and then let it disappear again.

Okay, this situation was now even stranger than before and Johanna tried desperately to find something meaningful to say to her. "I assume we both know who we are, don't we?" she finally said.

"Hmm, hmm. A word of advice. Whatever you're going to serve for dinner tonight shouldn't necessarily include alcohol. Foggy's always so grumpy when he's hung over, and as you just heard, he's still currently curing the one from last night." With a nod, she pointed to the business card. "If for some reason Mr. Murdock and Miss Page can't come tonight after all, I'll expect a call from you. Because then I not only want to meet the woman who advised Foggy to praise my choice of shoes for a chance to date me, but I want to get to know her when there is room at the dinner table."

With a smile that radiated neither particularly warmth nor coldness, she then said goodbye and quickly disappeared into the swarm of pedestrians. But Johanna thought she could still hear the steady clacking of high heels for at least a minute. The quieter it became, the louder the hidden warning in Johanna's head got. All at once she had to grin.

_I heard you, Marci. And I'm extremely pleased that you're taking your relationship with Foggy so seriously._

While fishing her phone out of her pocket again and starting on her way back to her apartment, Johanna decided she definitely wanted to get to know Marci better. She had a feeling they would both get along well.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the chapter took so long, but, well, sometimes life just gets in the way. And the chapter has somehow developed a life of its own...

**– The woman behind the words –**

  
It had been a good night. After the successfully ended chase at the beginning of his shift, he had broken up two fights in which the opponents had already faced each other at gunpoint. But otherwise it had been quiet. Surprisingly quiet for a Friday night. But something seemed to be in the air. Matt couldn't put his finger on it, yet, but he had noticed for a few nights that there were fewer petty criminals around. The mood was generally heated, though, and gang members now immediately pulled out the firearms at the slightest noise, like they were scared of their own shadows.

For this reason he was once again relieved that Melvin had made him such a reinforced suit that was so much better than his old one. Not that he had tested it out yet to see if the suit could deflect bullets. Matt still avoided getting shot whenever possible, but that was simply because he didn't have time to stop and think about whether that would be a good moment to test if his suit was bulletproof when he was fighting. After all, he wanted to disarm the gangsters as quickly as possible so they wouldn't shoot each other or worse, unsuspecting innocents down with ricochets.

So, with a good and well rested feeling, Matt started the day quietly, having even managed to sleep in for once. While he poured himself a glass of water he wondered if his body subconsciously knew he would need as much energy as possible in the near future and therefore demanded sleep? Subconscious... An abrupt pinch in his chest made him stop in mid-motion. Lost in thought, he rubbed his right hand over the spot. He knew what it was – it was the very spot that always announced itself with a dull ache when he had to think about him. The spot that had hurt since the moment so long ago when Stick had declared his training over and left him standing alone in that basement. Their last encounter had now again been months ago. And yet it still hurt as if it had been only yesterday! Because this time Stick hadn't only hurt Matt, he had killed a boy! But it was useless to keep thinking about it. Matt had told him to leave his town, and Stick had done so, hopefully never coming back.

The fact that Stick had taught him that the subconsciousness is a powerful ally of a warrior didn't matter now. If there was indeed something in the air, he would inevitably hear about it sooner or later. And when the time came, he would fight it like every other crime. Overall, his city hadn't been this safe at night in a long time. Even the cops who had driven by the building he was standing guard on the other night had had time to tell pointless jokes to pass the moments until closing time...

So, there was no reason to think about it now. But then why didn't his thoughts want to stop wandering? Why were his senses as if on full blast? Approaching his couch, Matt noticed his fingers tapping against his leg in a rapid rhythm. With a frown, he took a sip of water and then ran his fingers over his watch. It was just after one o'clock. So he still had enough time to calm down his nerves – and his subconsciousness... With a quiet sigh, he placed the glass on his living room table. But even after he became aware of it, his fingers still couldn't keep still, as if his muscles were yearning for a fight. But that evening he would be in civilian clothes for the time being! Therefore, with a forced calmness, he formed fists with both hands and consciously tensed his muscles to deliberately force his fingers to still. He then sat down in front of the table in a cross-legged position and, after a few more minutes after feeling reassured that his muscles would behave now, placed the backs of his hands on his knees in an intentionally slow movement and opening his palms. After he had already focused completely on himself for a few minutes, it was no longer difficult for him to breathe consciously and deeply in a controlled manner and within a few moments to drift off into a peaceful meditation.

…

When he left his inner place of peace and felt the hard wooden beams of the floor under the carpet again, his body and thoughts were calm. A small smile stole onto his lips, and with a sweeping movement, Matt rose and automatically began to walk a few laps around his apartment to relax and flex his legs from sitting for so long. As he did so, he let his fingers slide over his watch again and realized that he had been meditating for an astonishingly long time. Nevertheless, it was still quite early and if he would already go to the dinner date now, he would be there much too early. But would that be bad? Foggy had already sent him the address in the middle of the night and he knew where it was. Would it hurt if he listened in on Johanna Lorenz for a bit and found out if her motives were really friendly? After all, Foggy, while having a pugnacious and unwavering lawyer's nature for their clients, was a mild and sensitive soul when it came to his friends. He certainly wanted to spare him the pain of discovering that Johanna might just be here to exploit him. Wasn't it his duty as best friend to clarify whether this Johanna had any bad intensions?

But... where did this need to check her out come from? He had never had that with Foggy's other friends. But he knew all of them at least by _sight._ Johanna, however, had a close relationship with his best friend and Matt knew nothing about her. What if Foggy, after meeting her in person in a few hours, intensified their relationship and no longer had time for Matt? After all, he himself didn't invest that much time in their friendship because of his all-night job, and that made it hard to spend time together that had nothing to do with their partnership law firm work. That had diminished even more since Foggy and Marci had moved in together and the two were in a committed relationship.  
Exhaling audibly, he made the decision to just go. He would take his time and maybe it wouldn't be so long before Karen and Foggy would show up, too.

…

All in all it was a pleasant walk. The air temperature was surprisingly pleasant for the time of year and the balmy wind didn't bring too much urban stench to his nose. He was almost at his destination when he slowed down; apart from the countless voices and conversations of the people around him, enveloping him in a constant up-and-down soundscape, nervousness started to settle in his stomach and for the life of him he didn't know why! Briefly, it occurred to him to stop at his church and ask Father Lantom for advice. But then he would be too late because it would certainly not remain only with this one advice; Matt had simply not let himself be seen for far too long. Sensing that nervousness was being joined by guilt over his long abstinence, he walked on with slow steps. There was nothing he could do about this guilt now in a hurry, or he _definitely_ would be late. For Father Lantom deserved more than ten minutes of his time. The good thing was that he wouldn't have to live with this negative gnawing feeling for long. Because tomorrow was Sunday...

His thoughts had started to move again, and even though he knew that he was once more too much in his own head and should rather pay attention to his surroundings, he couldn't stop it in time. Normally, the other pedestrians paid attention to him; the red signal color on his cane was hard to miss, Foggy had once assured him. But on this day it was probably meant to be that he met another daydreamer... The only warning he had to step aside was the soft hum of a mechanical-sounding woman's voice that was just announcing directions and which was already much too close to him and was heading towards him without slowing down! Only unfortunately, the person holding the obvious cell phone was looking at said device and was also not paying attention to the surroundings. When his right shoulder hit something soft and at the same time edgy – a bag? For sure, because it was surrounded by a whole cascade of aromatic smells from eatable and non-eatable things... – he quickly turned to the right, so that the person didn't fully stumble against him but instead could pass by. Well, what he hadn't thought of was his cane! When he registered the sweet scent of lilies and his eyes reflexively widened behind his glasses at the realization of who he nearly had just collided with, he already heard a soft gasp when her shins collided with his cane. She stumbled to the side, but when Matt realized a second later that her balance was too messed up and she was going to fall down with the bag – wait; her contour was too massive, and within half a second, his senses provided him with a more accurate picture. She was carrying five bags? – he quickly grabbed her arms. At the same time, he took a step in the wrong direction, hoping that this clumsy action would look like that of an actual blind man and that he would just happen to grab her arms by chance.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly when he was sure that she wouldn't fall. "Are you all right?"

"Aller guten Dinge sind drei…" he heard her murmur and recognized it as German words, even if he didn't understand the meaning behind them.

"Pardon?"

Still, he held her arms tightly and her adrenaline flooded heartbeat seemed to act on him like a magnetic light. Each beat seemed to reverberate through his skin into his body, it seemed so loud to him. With effort, he focused his attention on the rest of her body and noticed her body temperature rising slightly. Her head was obviously swiveling back and forth between his cane and his face, and she was obviously uncomfortable with having collided with a blind man. Then she exhaled quietly but audibly to him and in turn placed her left hand hesitantly on his arm.

"That was 'third time's the charm.' I think that's what it's called, yeah."

Matt felt the barely perceptible stirring of air as a smile played around the corners of her mouth, and she made a motion as if to re-shoulder her bags which had half-slid down her arms. "Um, thank you, for holding me. And I'm so sorry, Mr. Murdock, there were hardly any pedestrians here on this sidewalk, so I got distracted and didn't pay attention."

Having obviously regained her balance, Matt quickly took a small step back and her hand slid down from his coat too and the rapid ba-dump of her heart no longer vibrated within him. Oddly enough, it had been a pleasant feeling. But then he realized what she had just said!

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

"Not yet," she said quickly, then bit her lower lip for just a moment. Expectantly, Matt waited for her to hold out her hand to him like everyone else. But surprisingly she did nothing of the sort. "I'm Johanna. Johanna Lorenz, Foggy's pen friend..."

"Ah," Matt mumbled, trying to say anything at all. The fact that she didn't react like all the other people who met him for the first time kind of threw him off. Furthermore, there were so many scents surrounding her thanks to the many things she had purchased. Starting in his nose they had obviously reached his brain and were currently clouding his ability to think. There was no other way he could describe why he just stood there for endless seconds. He felt like an idiot and frowned in confusion.

"Yeah, um, this is earlier than I thought, but, it's nice to meet you. But... Sorry, I don't mean to assume or be rude or… or offend you. But are the smells from my shopping bags too intense for you?"

_What?_

"What?"

"You know, I met a boy in an internship once whose sense of smell and hearing was heightened because of his blindness. It was always very uncomfortable for him when we went shopping with the kids, so I had stayed outside with him while the educators were in the mall with the group. So I thought maybe it was uncomfortable for you as well. I mean, I literally ran into you and just now you must be standing in a cloud of various smells..." She laughed nervously while smiling and took a step away from him.

Whether it was a conscious or unconscious move, Matt couldn't tell. But her explanation touched something inside him and he felt his lips forming a small smile as well.

"Yes, the... oranges smell very intense," he confirmed her guess. Why he didn't tell her that her lily scent was the most intense thing about her, he didn't know. Perhaps it was because he hadn't yet decided if he really found it unpleasant? What he did find strange, however, was a very slight salty note on the skin of her neck, as if she had been crying not so long ago and hadn't wiped away the traces of tears there like she had from her face. In any case, he didn't have time at that moment to think all this through for himself, because he felt her setting down her bags on the sidewalk with determined movements and repacking the oranges from the bag that had brushed against him into another, which she then loaded onto her right shoulder. But before she could shoulder the other bag again, she stopped in mid-motion and looked in his direction.

"Um, I don't even know... Do you have anywhere else to be before dinner, or were you already on your way to my apartment, Mr. Murdock?"

"Matt," he replied automatically and when her nervous smile turned into a broad, genuine one and her heartbeat increased even more, he allowed himself to relish the good feeling of speaking with her. So far, she made a nice, easygoing and interested impression on him, and if she wrote letters the way she spoke, Matt could understand why Foggy had maintained a pen-pal relationship with her for so long. Her voice was a shade lighter than Karen's, and even though she was nervous, she spoke her thoughts honestly. He hadn't been able to hear any falseness from her words. Matt felt himself slowly warming up to her. And so he decided to go on with his plan, but this time with the intention of just getting to know her further, as if she were a stranger. Well, technically she still was one…

"I was actually already on my way. It's been a while since I've been in the street where your apartment is."

That the rooftop of that house was an often used jumping-off point for him she didn't have to know.

"So I didn't know how long it would take me to find the right entrance or when Foggy and Karen would be there. But I understand if I'm way too early-"

"No, not at all!" she interrupted him with a shake of her head that sent her high-tied braid flying around her head. In the next second, she apparently remembered that he couldn't see her gesture and abruptly stopped while still looking slightly past him. Her body temperature rose slightly and Matt had to try to stifle a smile at that. So she wasn't immune to such gestures after all. Sweet.

"I mean," she continued after clearing her throat quietly, "if you don't mind listening to me while preparing the dinner? It's actually quite convenient; I just remembered earlier that I didn't ask Foggy if you or Ms. Page had food intolerances I should know about."

With a small gesture of his hand, Matt gestured for her to go ahead and two of her heartbeats later started moving himself.

"Food intolerances. I've honestly never been asked that before."

"Well, I don't know how it is on this side of the Atlantic, but in Germany it seems to have developed very much for the worse in recent years. Once we had just a few minutes to call an ambulance for a boy who reacted very strongly and violently to a nut allergy that no one had known about until then. So, yeah, that's where I get a little anxious when I'm cooking for people for the first time."

"Given that description, I think it's an appropriate question. But I can reassure you, Karen and I don't have any intolerances. Karen doesn't like lychees though."

"And you? There are no lychees in what I'm going to put in front of you tonight. But-"

_Turn left in ten yards._

The electronic announcement of her cell phone sounded a tiny bit muffled from her coat pocket, and that brought him back to the original thing he'd wanted to ask her.

"There's really nothing I don't eat, though I wouldn't favor overly spicy food. Would you mind answering a personal question for me now?"

"Not at all, shoot," she replied while continuing to stroll down the sidewalk beside him normally.

"As I understand it, this is your first time in New York? In Hell's Kitchen?"

"First time in the U.S., yes."

"Okay, then how did you recognize me as Matt Murdock? Foggy told me you two didn't exchange any photos. Then how did you know who I was, Johanna?"

They had just arrived at the next street when the scent wafted toward him from the pizzeria that she had also mentioned in her second riddle. Automatically he stopped when he heard a car approaching quickly. She also stopped and turned to him, but remained silent. With her right hand, she reached into her coat pocket for her cell phone and turned it off. More seconds passed, as she probably thought of an answer. But her pulse remained suspiciously calm.

"Is the question uncomfortable for you?"

"No. I'm just thinking about whether I should tell you already. I was going to tell Foggy first, but, I mean, the heck with it. We're all adults and I don't think he'll hold it against me. But come on, there's no car coming right now, let's go over the street first."

When they started moving again, Matt noticed that she watched him for short periods of time every other moment. He had felt her glances again and again before, but now he was consciously aware of it. That he was frowning because of it seemed to catch her eye as well, because she immediately spoke with him about it.

"Three more steps, then comes the curb. It's a little higher here than on the other side of the street."

Interesting. Thanks to the blind boy she had mentioned, she seemed to have really gained experience in giving clues to the blind.

"Thank you," he returned with a smile, mentally making the very important note to himself not to act conspicuous while being around her.

"So, here we are," she announced after a few more steps, drawing her shoulder blades together as she searched for something in an inside pocket of her coat with her right hand and which immediately clinked metallically. While she unlocked the front door, she lifted her left shoulder a bit and Matt realized that he could have asked her long ago if he could help her carry her bags.

He took a step forward as she pushed the door open and touched her on the arm. Honestly, it was only a gentle touch, just a fleeting contact, dampened by the fabric of her coat, but she immediately looked in his direction and he suddenly found himself in close proximity to her face. He heard her eyelashes touch the skin under her eyes while she blinked and felt her breath as small swirls on his neck. Her heartbeat increased imperceptibly and for a second she pinched her lips together before relaxing them again and letting out a sigh inaudible to normal ears. Without a comment she stepped back into the hallway, and while Matt was still pondering what this behavior meant, she spoke in a voice that sounded a shade cooler than before.

"There's an elevator, but if it's okay, I'd like to use the stairs. I'm slightly claustrophobic in such confined spaces when there are other people in there with me."

Her pulse jumped for a moment, but he realized that didn't necessarily mean it was a lie. It could also be due to the possibility that he would want to use the elevator anyway. But he wouldn't do that to her. Claustrophobia had never been a problem for him. Instead, he remembered with all his senses how it had been back then, when literally the whole world had been too wide, too far for him with its too loud screaming before Stick had shown up and taken care of him. The drum-like footsteps of all the kids of the orphanage running around on the different floors, the screeching of the cars outside the building, the thousand voices of the people on the sidewalks and the neighboring houses that flowed into each other and made no sense – yes, he knew how terrifying such an unpleasant feeling could become.

"But of course you can drive up to the third floor by yourself, Matt. That wouldn't be a problem either."

Or... could it be that she would find it uncomfortable to be in the elevator with him? Perhaps her gesture, helpful to any blind person, had simply been an expression of the fact that she was basically a kind and caring person? That didn't have to mean that she liked him. After all, she didn't know him at all.

Matt swallowed the beginning lump in his throat and, before the pause could turn into a trench of silence, he indicated a nod.

"I understand. Of course we can take the stairs. And no, I'm happy to take them, too. So, don't worry about that. Where exactly...?"

"Thank you," she replied to him softly, and her voice had once again taken on the warm tone with which she had introduced herself to him. That would mean that it was just the claustrophobia, right?

"Only a few steps further is the staircase. The banister is, um..." Again, her hair flew around her head and the light breeze brought another wave of her sweet lily scent near his nose as she probably assessed the height with a quick glance. "It's waist high, for you. But it gets up quite winding. May I offer you my arm to hold on to?"

Again, her pulse did a little jump, so Matt couldn't help but inquire accordingly, "Have you ever led anyone before?"

"Well, I'm familiar with the theory. Practically, I don't have any experience yet, but I can assure you, I'm a fast learner. And-" After a tiny moment of hesitation, Matt heard her skin ripple, as if she were frowning. "And that just sounded like a failed job interview. Sorry."

A grin spread across Matt's face. "You don't need to apologize for that. That was cute. And I'll gladly accept your help getting up those winding stairs. But only if I can help you carry the groceries. How many bags are you carrying?"

"Five?"

"Is that a question or a statement, Ms. Lorenz?"

"Um, would it reflect poorly on my shopping habits if I confirmed it as a statement, Counselor?"

Before he could stop it, an amused snort escaped Matt. But that seemed to create a smile on her face as well. "Well, considering that there are probably ingredients in it for the dinner for us, I'm not going to make a complaint regarding your habits."

"How noble..." She laughed quietly as Matt folded up his cane, tucked it into the inside pocket of his coat, and then held out his right hand to her.

"Come, give me three of them. I don't want to patronize you, but since this will be your first time leading a poor blind person, you'll certainly have to concentrate. You know," he paused and grimaced in mock agony, "just maybe not the one with the oranges."

"Okay, fair trade, I'd say," she giggled.

Still analyzing her previously unusual behavior in the back of his mind, he paid close attention to her reactions as their hands inevitably touched when she handed over the bags. But neither could he detect any hesitation, nor any telltale response from her body. Whatever it had been she had now overcome. Or perhaps she had simply been startled by their sudden closeness?

After shouldering two bags on the left and the third on the right, he unfolded his cane again and, holding it with his left, held out his right hand to her, wrapping it around the crook of her arm as she responded to him accordingly. She radiated pleasant warmth, and together with her floral scent, Matt had the feeling of walking through a flower meadow whose beautiful colors were unfortunately limited only to the reds of the fiery perception of his world. A quiet feeling of regret spread through him as he remembered that as a child he had taken the sight of flowering meadows in the parks for granted instead of appreciating them. If he had paid more attention to it, he might have had a picture of it in his mind now.

As they arrived on the second floor landing, Matt noticed that she had been silent until then. Had she been watching him move again? But no, her gaze was straight ahead and her body was a little tense. But her heartbeat was in a key that made him wonder what condition she was in. Not that he would find the three bags heavy, but she had carried five of them for God knows how long through the city and now took the stairs with an ease as if she were walking slowly in the park instead of leading a blind man up a – really absurdly winding – staircase. Up to the last flight of stairs he paid close attention to her, noting that while she was leading him almost as well as Foggy, she seemed to be sinking more and more into her own thoughts. When she finally stopped with him in front of a door, still lost in herself, he became nervous.

"Is everything all right, Johanna? You're so quiet right now."

For a few seconds she chewed on her lower lip. But when she turned to face him and let out a small sigh, he knew she was going to tell him, whatever it was. When she put her right hand on his, still holding her arm, he noticed that it was shaking so slightly that she probably didn't even notice it herself.

"Um, before we enter my apartment, I need to tell you that I can defend myself."

"What?" Of all the things she could have said, he hadn't expected that.

"Shhh, please don't interrupt me, okay? There's a mess in my head today that you can't help. But I still have to try to talk it out, Matt. The problem right now is that you're already here. Well, actually, it's not a problem, or I would have said it earlier when we met. But in a way, it is. I don't know what Foggy told you about me, but I have a not so nice past that catches up with me every now and then and makes me wary of others. Well, men. You know, in theory I know you're Foggy's best friend and you've been nothing but nice to me for the last scant half hour. But my instincts tell me you're still a man. And to resolve this discrepancy in me letting you into my apartment as a stranger so completely ahead of time, even though Foggy isn't here yet whom I fully trust, I have to tell you that I can defend myself and that you please don't do any... um... ill-advised advances or anything."

For a solid ten seconds, neither of them spoke a word. When Matt opened his mouth to reply to her – well, what, actually? – she beat him to it.

"And I know this must sound totally creepy and confusing to you right now. But I hope you're not put off now or anything and don't feel like having dinner anymore..."

Okay. Now nervousness had her in its grip – her heart was literally racing and the hand that was still on his was a little sweaty. He would have liked to put his left one on hers to signal that everything was okay. But the explanation of her thoughts made him pause. Had she been attacked once or had she been burgled? But whatever had happened wasn't the best subject of conversation for a hallway. And so he nodded instead. But now at least he knew what had triggered her previous behavior.

"I see. And of course I respect your wishes and will not wander around your apartment unasked or sneak up on you."

He wouldn't have done that anyway, but he felt she needed to hear it at that moment.

"Thank you... Matthew."

Matthew... To him, it sounded like her soft voice was caressing his name, while at the same time expressing the utter seriousness of the situation in just that one word. And so at the last second his attempt died on his tongue, when he already wanted to remind her that she could call him Matt.

Instead, he gave her a smile and nodded in understanding.

"Well..." With a slow movement she released her right hand from his and put it into her inside coat pocket, from which it jingled metallically a moment later again. "Here we are."

He sensed her movement a second before she moved and, as it were, set off with her the remaining three steps toward the door. Without haste, she unlocked it, and Matt was startled to discover that there was only one lock on the door.

"Please, come in, there's no threshold."

He literally heard the smile inside her voice when she took another three steps and he followed her into her apartment.


End file.
